Dark Arts Drop Out
by aurorstorm
Summary: Neville Longbottom's seventh year 'Dark Arts' class is ordered to practise the Cruciatus Curse on young students. Should he risk his life to do the right thing, or will the class sumbit to Carrow's cruel demands? Rated for language and mature themes.


The group of teenagers huddled together as they shuffled miserably down the damp stone steps towards the dungeons. Professor Carrow had told his Gryffindor and Hufflepuff class that their now branded 'Dark Arts' lesson would be located there today. Each student had formulated their own theory as to what would take place, however none had spoken these theories to another. There was a mutual understanding between them all and nobody wished to add to anybody else's fear.

In fact, there hadn't been a lot of speaking all year. Silence had seeped into the once joyously chaotic corridors of Hogwarts, and most seldom spoke in fear of receiving punishment - especially around the Carrows. As seventh-years, it was their place to be the brave and supportive role models for the younger students, but that was too much to expect from the majority of them. Those with enough nerve banded together as Dumbledore's Army, and their courageous leader was the young man at the head of the class pack today, using the light from his wand to guide his friends onwards, deep down into the dungeons. That young man was Neville Longbottom, and he knew exactly what was coming in this lesson and he feared it more than all the class, with good reason. Still, he marched ahead bravely, because he was determined to survive this year with his dignity intact - if he survived at all.

The group came to a halt in front of the heavy, slightly rotten doors to their makeshift classroom. Neville turned to face his classmates apprehensively. His eyes met those of his friend and fellow Dumbledore's Army member Ernie Macmillan.

"Go on, Neville," Ernie whispered, and patted him on the shoulder. "Whatever it is, we can face it."

Neville nodded, drew in a deep breath and threw open the doors. The class hesitated a moment before stepping into the dungeon.

It was almost completely dark, save for a few green flames in brackets sparsely lining the walls. The room was musty and damp and lacked any furniture. Amycus Carrow stood facing the class with a sick grin on his face, but he was paid no attention as the seventh year students began to gasp and whisper, and one let out a quickly stifled scream of horror. Four young students were chained up to the ceiling; bruised, gagged and very much awake.

Carrow stared Neville in the face and began to laugh, his face contorted with a mixture of mirth and menace. The students huddled closer together and Hannah Abbott grasped the hand of Seamus Finnigan while the others all trembled with fear. Carrow's laughter suddenly stopped as abruptly as it had started. He began to address the class.

"I see yeh've noticed these little brats up here, eh?" he growled. "Them lot went an' got 'emselves detentions, didn' they." He moved to stand underneath the left-most student.

"This one, second year. Spoke outta turn in me sister Professor Carrow's class." The older students watched as a tear slid down the young boy's grazed cheek. Carrow stepped under the next child.

"An' this little shit 'ere, was caught bein' outta his dorm at night," he chuckled darkly. "Third year." The boy screwed his eyes shut as if he was expecting an attack, but Carrow merely shook his head in mock disappointment and moved on to stand under a small blonde girl.

"This one's another second year, an' she was overhead talkin' about a certain Mister Potter an' his little gang," and at the mention of Harry Potter's name the silence was broken and the class erupted into excited whispers.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" roared the Professor, and he thrust his wand into the air to cause a loud bang, shocking the class into quiet once more. "Now, we won't have any more of that, will we," he threatened, "or we'll be seein' you lot up 'ere too." He stepped underneath the last child, a tiny and pale boy who looked the youngest of all.

"This one's a good un'," the man grinned. "My favourite of the lot. Sat cryin' in me own class when he _didn' wanna hurt the little birdy_." The boy whimpered, and Parvati Patil sniffed and wiped her eyes. "First year," snarled Carrow triumphantly, and the class once more began to speak, this time in protest.

"It's wrong!" cried Hannah, and her concerns were echoed in shouts from her classmates, all except Neville who remained unusually calm and quiet.

"SILENCE!" shouted Carrow over the din of the classroom, although he still had a gleeful look on his face. The class became quieter but still whispered fervently to one another, but this did not bother Carrow any longer. He looked directly at Neville as he addressed the class.

"These disobedient brats," he announced, "are gonna be the subjects of our firs' practical lesson on the Cruciatus Curse."

Every class member fell completely silent and their faces became deathly pale. Carrow smiled to himself darkly as he watched them all swallow lumps in their throats and look to each other as if to see who was going to protest first. Finally, Ernie stepped forward from the group and faced Carrow.

"We're not doing it," he said firmly, wringing his sweaty hands behind his back. "Absolutely not."

"Is that so, boy?" whispered Carrow. "You're not gonna do it?" His voice changed to a snarl. "COWARD!"

The older man drew his wand, prompting a sharp intake of breath from the bystanders. Ernie moved to retaliate but was a second too late and was blasted across the room and thrown into the solid stone wall with a sickening thump. Again, the class was stunned into silence as their friend lay crumpled on the cold floor, blood trickling slowly from the back of his head. A few small sobs escaped from some of the students but no one else dared to speak up like Ernie had - not even Neville, who had stood still with his eyes screwed shut for the whole encounter, concentrating fully on keeping the air flowing in and out of his lungs. It was the only way he could keep himself from being sick.

Professor Carrow began to pace the room, gazing hungrily at the terrified not-quite-children gathered before him. He kept up his prowl for a few excruciating minutes before coming to a stop face-to-face with Parvati. She bit her lip so hard it drew blood as Carrow grinned at her like a beast over his kill, drenching her in his foul breath. He grabbed her around the collar and dragged her to stand at the front of the class, uncomfortably close to the struggling first year dangling from the ceiling. Carrow drew his wand once more and and jabbed it into Parvati's slender neck.

"Do it," he snarled.

Parvati began to weep as she looked up at the tiny little boy above her. "I c-can't, P-professor, I can't!" she cried.

Carrow dug the wand deeper into her neck and growled, "Do it, _now_, or I'll snap your pretty little neck in two!"

Parvati glanced back to her friends and saw the fear in their eyes, and she knew that Carrow could be serious with his threat. She swallowed audibly and reached into the pocket of her robes, drawing her wand with a shaking arm.

Neville could feel the bile rising in his throat as he watched Parvati take aim at the innocent child suspended in the cold air, felt the sweat run down his neck as he saw the sadistic grin on the Death Eater's ugly face, and was powerless to stop the twitch of his own wand arm towards his pocket as Parvati opened her mouth and began to choke out, _"C-crucio_," and as the child began to convulse and cry out, he stepped out from the group with his wand raised and his blood boiling.

"Expelliarmus!" he cried, and Carrow was caught surprised as his wand sailed through the air and was grabbed by another student who dropped it like it was diseased. "You sick bastard, stop!" Neville shouted, and Carrow roared as he wrenched Parvati's wand from her grip. She fell back into her friends' arms sobbing, her eyes never leaving the whimpering first year, and she cried out apologies to anyone who was listening.

Carrow charged at Neville, curses flying wildly from Parvati's wand. "Yeh little shit, how _dare_ you," he spat, as Neville dodged and blocked spell after spell. Red jets of light flew between them and the other students cowered against the wall. Neville winced as a searing pain shot across his face, followed by a warm stream of blood. Carrow croaked, "I'll - I swear I'll - "

"What," shouted Neville over the din, "take my grandmother? Too late, Gran's on the run!" he laughed. "You pathetic lot are no match for her,"

Carrow's jaw dropped in surprise for a moment, before it resumed its normal crooked position. "Well then," he reasoned, "may as well just kill yeh, great useless lump," and Neville knew that his time as a 'Dark Arts' student at Hogwarts was definitely over. He leapt around wildly, dodging the now green flashes of light being thrown at him as his friends screamed.

"Get, out, Neville - "

" - We'll hold him off - "

" - Run, bloody hell, RUN!"

The seventh years began to send every curse they knew at the Death Eater, who began to howl and limp his way around the room. Still, he endured the assault and stayed focussed on his goal - murdering Neville Longbottom.

Neville backed away towards the doors of the dungeon, joining his classmates in throwing spells of all sorts at Carrow, and he only just resisted the temptation to use an Unforgiveable Curse. Someone aimed their wand at the doors and sent them flying open, and Neville caught one last glimpse of Carrow's face as he threw himself out into the hallway and the doors slammed shut behind him. Scrambling to get up from the damp stone floors, he could hear the death threats being screamed at him and the metallic sound of Killing Curses weakening the doors. He began to run faster than he had ever run before, to the only place he could think of where he would be safe in the castle - the Room of Requirement.

Tears blurred his vision as the gravity of the situation overwhelmed him. Four young students were strung up in the dungeons, the youngest had endured the Cruciatus Curse and all four of them would probably receive further humiliation from the now enraged Carrow. His beloved Gryffindor and Hufflepuff classmates who had jumped to defend him would each be severely punished for their actions, and Ernie lay unconscious and bleeding on the dungeon floor. Neville had just witnessed and almost been forced to enact the the curse that stole away his parents minds. He was so close to falling apart when he finally reached the tapestry.

_I need somewhere for my friends and I to hide from the Carrows,_ he thought, using all of his willpower to concentrate. _I need somewhere for my friends to hide ... I need... to hide... Carrows... please..._

The door swung open and Neville collapsed into the room. He lay panting on the fluffy carpet and rolled onto his back, staring at the high arched ceiling. Eventually the blackness consumed him, and he slipped away into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Neville woke up to the creak of a door, and sat bolt upright with his wand clutched in his hand.<p>

"Neville, it's us," came a friendly whisper, and he rubbed at his tired, blood-encrusted eyes until a familiar red-haired girl came into focus.

"Ginny," he sighed, and gave her a relieved smile. She returned the smile, and gestured to the people behind her who Neville could now recognise as a group of his classmates and fellow DA members, each sporting their own battle wounds. Ernie Macmillan, pale and limping, was supported by a worn Justin Finch-Fletchley. Parvati was clutching the hand of Lavender Brown whose arms were littered with burns, while leaning on a bloody Seamus's shoulder, looking shaken but ultimately okay. They were followed by more loyal students from the three allied Houses, and Neville's heart warmed as the relief flooded him. His friends had survived relatively unharmed - that is, they were all alive.

"We figured you'd come here, and we thought we should check up on you. The whole school's heard what happened," Ginny said conversationally as she plonked herself down on a couch and observed their surroundings. "This is a rather cosy place, you know."

Neville nodded in agreement. It really was comfortable - the Room was fully carpeted and furnished with plenty of couches, chairs, beds and cushions. There was a fire crackling away in the grate and the walls were lined with shelves that were filled with books and odd little trinkets. He doubted that he and his friends would have survived this long if it wasn't for the safe haven of the Room.

"We'll have to join you here eventually, I suppose," Ginny sighed. "If they're prepared to kill you, they'll be after all of us before long."

Ernie gingerly placed himself down on a cushion. "I think I'll stay in here for now," he muttered. "I don't think I can face another class with that monster."

Neville simply gazed at the faces of his friends and smiled. He knew that together, they were strong enough to survive anything - even though he was sure that the events of today were only just the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are very much appreciated!<strong>


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